Epiphany Of Embracing

I am loving being at college. It is a daily joy to me.
I don’t particularly like the lectures;
or the assignments;
or hospital chaplaincy placement;
or my fellowship group [the group dynamic, that is; not the individuals].
I don’t necessarily find these things
either interesting or enjoyable.
But I can genuinely, wholeheartedly and unreservedly say that I love being at college.

I observe that not a few of my fellow students are not loving being at college.
I observe that several of them find
the lectures, the assignments, the placements and the groups
much more interesting or enjoyable
than I do.
But their experience of college is nonetheless not a particularly happy one.

My reflection is this:
That I have consciously chosen to
embrace the experience of being at college
and to
be embraced by the college community;
and others have chosen –
consciously or unconsciously –
not to do so.

I do not think that makes me better than them.
But it undoubtedly results in a greater experience of ‘at-one-ment’ with God and my self and my neighbour; it both enables and evinces a measure of healing in these three fractured dimensions of relationship.

The whole is not the sum of the constituent parts.
Rather, our experience of the whole is determined
by our perspective on the whole.

The parts are bricks and doors and windows and roof-tiles and so on.
But it is the imagination of the architect that determines how they combine.
And it is the spaces between the parts that light and air and people flow through…

Epiphany Of Friendship

I find myself, this Epiphany-tide,
on a journey of discovery
in company with others,
shaken out from the routine
by pilgrim light:
in which we share
gold of our common knowing,
incense of entwined remembering,
myrrh of self-denying loving…

I find myself, this Epiphany-tide,
on a journey of discovery
in company with others,
growing dissatisfied
with offering my companions
9 or 18 carat thoughts
and words and acts; willing, instead,
to be known and know
in 24 carat confidences.

I find myself, this Epiphany-tide,
on a journey of discovery
in company with others,
writing new stories,
weaving lives together before God;
not simply telling what has been
and is, but building-up
in readiness of that to come,
as yet unwritten-able.

I find myself, this Epiphany-tide,
on a journey of discovery
in company with others;
a journey of the heart
laid down;
transformed by love
laid down and taken up again,
to love, and so to
be transforming.

Epiphany Of Loving

There is more than one way of loving.

There is to be in love with someone,
to respond with joy and wonder at the person God has already formed,
enjoying the gift of their presence;
and there is to love someone,
to commit to helping them become the person God is yet to form,
without seeking to control that process in any way. [1]

(I reflected on these ideas last summer, in one of my favourite posts of last year – go read, if you are interested.)

To be in love with my son is to celebrate the stage in life he is in at present, not wishing he were beyond it (this is not always easy!); while to love him is to accompany him on his journey through subsequent stages – in which I shall be in love with him…
If I were only in love with my children, however good my intentions, they would be stifled and grow up too slowly to reach healthy maturity. If I only loved my children, however good my intentions, they would be pushed ahead of themselves and grow up too quickly to reach healthy maturity. I and they need the dynamic tension between these two ways of loving.

God is both in love with us – sees us, just as we are, in Christ, as perfect – and loves us – desiring, fostering, but not forcing, growth.

Earlier this week I was listening to someone speak of friendship. Of how to be a friend historically was a passionate relationship (i.e. an ‘in love’ relationship) that always sought the good of the friend (i.e. a ‘love’ relationship). Of how we have debased passion by restricting it to sexualised passion; and debased friendship by restricting it to shared experienced (so, and in stark contrast to the moral and life-enhancing concern of friendship in times past, ‘friends’ go out binge drinking – mutually endorsing self-destructive behaviour – in our society).

It struck me because I already felt that God had been speaking to me, in the week since college started back after Christmas, about passion being the defining word for how I am to live this somewhat strange season…

[1] There is a wonderful scene in the film Love, Actually where one of the characters (played by Andrew Lincoln), who is in love with the newly-wed bride (played by Keira Knightley) of his best friend, turns up at her door and in silence holds up a series of placards on which he declares his undying love “without hope or agenda,” and then walks away, saying to himself, “Enough, now.”

I love this scene for so many reasons, including that it shows that it is possible to be in love with someone without wanting to possess them for yourself, and that it is possible to love another enough to lay down your own hope or agenda in deference to theirs…

Epiphany Of Remembering

There is more than one way of remembering.

I love the Eucharist, bread broken, wine shared.
It is us remember-ing Jesus’ broken body;
and Christ re-membering his broken body, the Church
(a community broken by the distances between us –
both physical and inter-personal,
by geography and by the falling short in our relationships –
made whole, made one again).
The interplay between his once-and-for-all act
and his ongoing repeated-over-and-over action.

There is more than one way of remembering.

We can remember relationships in a way that keeps our focus on the past,
a past that we cast as being better than our present,
and in so doing keep our present (increasingly) broken.
Or we can remember relationships in a way that draws on the past
in order to resource the present,
and in so doing find (increasing) healing for our present brokenness.

I have lived long enough, and moved often enough,
to know what it is to invest in another,
to be invested in by another,
to have dear friends,
and then to be separated.
I have chosen to remember in ways that have kept me broken;
and I have chosen to remember in ways through which God has restored wellbeing to me
(which is not to say that the separations get any less painful…).
And I hope that I am learning to do the latter more and the former less.

Now we are in Nottingham (for two years, before we move again…), and Jo and I are making friends who are dear to us, and whose friendship will carry on beyond this time and place.
But our daughter is just at the start of this journey
into the life of friendship
(our sons, too young to have begun at all, really),
and she is finding leaving old friends
and making new friends
much harder…

God's Epiphany

There is more than one way of knowing.
There is knowing about something or someone, and there is knowing with something or someone;
objective knowledge, and subjective knowledge;
propositional knowledge, and relational knowledge.
God knows everything there is to know about everything (that’s what it means to be omniscient). But God is more interested in knowing with creation. God wants to know us – to know you, to know me. And though you can find out about another person in many ways – Google them; read about them in the gossip press – you can only get to know them by coming alongside and, well, getting to know them…

Tomorrow is the Feast of Epiphany.
What might God learn with us, from the gifts we bring?

gold?
god knows, i am
a physical being;
in hunger,
i am in need
of bread.

incense?
god knows, i am
a spiritual being;
oppressed,
i am in need
of deliverance.

myrrh?
god knows, i am
an emotional being;
in grief,
i am in need
of resurrection life.

god receives;
and in receiving
god knows…

Christmas Day

May the babe born in Bethlehem
gift you with wonder;
the carpenter apprenticed in Nazareth
gift you with purpose;
the miracle-worker of Capernaum
gift you with wholeness;
the sacrifice on Golgotha
gift you with forgiveness;
and the prince of Heaven
gift you with hope eternal.
Amen.

Happy Christmas!


Advent , Christmas

Advent 23 | Christmas Eve

This baby
will not stay wrapped in cloth and
lying in a borrowed manger:
for there is a life story
to grow into…

This man
will not stay wrapped in cloth and
lying in a borrowed tomb:
for there is a life story
to grow into…


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Advent 22

When Jesus is born,
the amniotic sac is torn:
the thin veil between
anticipation of this world
and intimate knowing of it.

But, uniquely, this is a virgin birth;
and so, uniquely, the hymen is also torn:
the thin veil between
anticipation of the bridegroom
and intimate knowing of the bride.

When Jesus dies,
the curtain in the temple is torn:
the thin veil between
anticipation of God’s presence
and intimate knowing of his glory.

And when he comes again?
The heavens shall be torn:
the thin veil between
anticipation of God’s reign
and intimate knowing of it.


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Advent 21

When I am with my newly-met college friends, who I am growing to love, I feel the absence of my wife.

And when I am at home with my wife, who, still after all these years, I am growing to love, I feel the absence of my college friends.

It is not that when I am with my friends I wish I were with my wife instead; or that when I am with my wife I wish I was with my friends instead; as if I were perpetually unable to live in the moment.

It is that being in the presence of one you love is a weightless experience [1] [2]. Whereas being in the absence of one you love is a weighty experience.

To bear the
wait
is to choose
to bear the
weight.

Come, Lord Jesus!


[1] we understand this most clearly in relation to romantic love, where we even speak of the sensation of “walking on air”
[2] as opposed to being in the presence of one you fear, which is a heavy burden


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Advent 20

The next day [John the baptiser] saw Jesus coming towards him and declared, ‘Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!’
…
The next day John again was standing with two of his disciples, and as he watched Jesus walk by, he exclaimed, ‘Look, here is the Lamb of God!’
John 1:29; 35, 36

What is the nature of John’s testimony?
It is not to describe what he has seen: Jesus is a man, not a sheep.
It is not even to ascribe a theological interpretation to what he has seen – as we might say if a witness to Jesus’ crucifixion were to say, ‘Behold the Lamb of God!’
No, John’s testimony is a perceiving of
how something that has yet to happen
impacts upon the here-and-now.

Seeing is nothing.
Perceiving is everything.


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Advent 19

Through incarnation, God’s creative
Word
Was and is reconciled to the created
World,
In order that the created
World
Is and will be reconciled to God’s creative
Word.


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Advent 18

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not apprehend||comprehend it.
John 1:5


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Advent 17

What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people.
John 1:3b, 4 NRSV

Darkness has no texture.
Night is rich in texture,
precisely because night is not
devoid of light:
moonlight,
starlight,
firelight,
candle-light.
Even the deepest blues
and purples add texture
only because of light.

Existence has no texture.
Life is rich in texture,
precisely because life is not
devoid of light:
the glory
of God’s presence
at home
in human flesh.
Even the deepest blues
and purples add texture
only because of light.

Life is to existence
as night is to darkness.


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Advent 16

One of the great Christmas traditions is flicking through the film guide in the TV listings, and anticipating what you intend to watch – chance would be a fine thing! – over the holiday…

There will, undoubtedly, be a gluttonous spread of action/thrillers on the menu. And a recurring plot device in such stories is the principle that:
the best place to hide something
you don’t want to be noticed
is out in the open;
the best place to meet someone
without being observed
is in a busy public space.

The same principle is at play in the Gospels:
Jesus is the secret,
present but hidden in the open;
seen, with unseeing eyes, by everyone;
eluding the grasp of enemies
and would-be allies alike;
passed over.

But the viewer has a privileged position:
we do not lose sight of the hero,
swallowed by the crowd at the station…
not for long, at any rate:
look, there he is!

And what of Jesus?


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Advent 15

Might we catch a glimpse of God coming to us today…
…in the busyness of getting ready for
Christmas?


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Advent 14

Might we catch a glimpse of God coming to us today…
…in the ache-weight of bereavement,
sitting with us, weeping with us,
where another sits no more?


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Advent 13

Might we catch a glimpse of God coming to us today…
…in the unguarded face of a friend?


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Advent 12

Blessed are you, Sovereign God of all,
to you be praise and glory for ever.
In your tender compassion
the dawn from on high is breaking upon us
to dispel the lingering shadows of night.
As we look for your coming among us this day,
open our eyes to behold your presence
and strengthen our hands to do your will,
that the world may rejoice and give you praise.
Blessed be God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit.
Blessed be God for ever.

Liturgy from Common Worship, Morning Prayer in Advent


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Advent 11

Watching and waiting:

For though we await the age to come,
the life of the age to come
has already begun
within the present age…


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Advent 10

Are you in, or out?

A bastard: Out.
Born beyond the margin of human society,
where the animals shelter: Out.
Acknowledged by unreliable witnesses –
sheep herders, geriatrics, women, foreigners: Out.
Political refugee: Out.
Didn’t go to the right school: Out.
From the wrong place: Out.
Welcomes sinners: Out.
Touches those whose touch defiles: Out.
Breaks the Rules: Out.
Beyond the wall: Out.
Hung on a cross: Out.
Cursed by God: Out.

Are you in, or out?


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